


The Cavalry

by grumpyhedgehogs



Series: Give It Your Best Shot [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (all you need to know is Connor got to the rooftop scene and Hank made him see sense), Connor just needs like a thousand hugs and then he'll be okay, Gen, I'm a little supportive of Simon/Markus see if you can tell, Mostly Gen, Peaceful Protest Ending, Some angst, another installment in my quest to fist fight david cage, good ending, mostly plot, no beta we die like men, some fluff? I guess? More like pre-fluff, this is a sequel to my other fic Breakthrough if you couldn't tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpyhedgehogs/pseuds/grumpyhedgehogs
Summary: Markus thought they were alone in this, the last of the free androids. Connor, politely, proves him very wrong.





	The Cavalry

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah, sequel time. Thanks everyone who supported my first fic, Breakthrough, and please accept this continuation as a gift of gratitude. I love Markus and Connor both so this was a fun exercise, even though I found Markus a bit harder to write than Connor. And I might have made Simon a little gay. Oh well. No content warnings this time, we're all about that peaceful ending in here! Working title was: Connor tries really hard to make friends and sometimes that means saving a revolution or two.

The snow whirls in front of Connor, obscuring his form long enough that Markus for a moment thinks he may have imagined it. Then the wind howls, the snow shifts, and the famed deviant hunter is reveled.

He seems almost ghostly, surrounded by the cold stark white of the snow as he is, a black shape emerging as if from the underworld. The lights in his jacket illuminate his face and cast disturbing shadows across his features. He looks as a figure of death come to pass judgement.

(Markus has always been one for a touch of drama.)

Connor’s eyes are locked on Markus and his stronghold (as weak as it is), marching with that steely determination which led to too many of Markus’s people being killed.

(After Jericho fell, Markus -to his shame- had tried to dredge up some kind of hatred for his fellow android, tried to leech off of North’s rage, to give himself strength through anger. Connor had turned from his people, led the FBI right to Markus’s doorstep, attempted to murder him and yet, in the end all Markus could feel for him was pity. The man was living in chains he turned a blind eye to.)

For a second, Markus believes it is only Connor coming up the street, and his thirium rushes in his ears. This might be another attack by the deviant hunter.

Then the snow swirls by once again, and out of the white, the androids appear.

There must be hundreds of them, all stepping out of the gloom like newborn fawns. While Connor is locked on his destination with that singular purpose, the androids he leads pause every few steps, some of them examining the snow that falls on their skin, some watching the city lights or the helicopters above, others observing the soldiers and reporters in the distance solemnly. All look up the street to Markus’s people in wonder. (That intoxicating feeling of power surges in Markus for a moment, before it is tempered by his fear. He cannot lose himself to its seductive pull, cannot forget that he does this for his people, not himself.)

Markus, too, feels awe rise in his chest at the sight of the crowd. The world seems silent for a moment. There are no reporters or cameras, no stand-off with the FBI or the army, no uncertainty that he made the right choices.

There is only Connor’s march and its proof of Markus’s idea, of peace and prosperity and freedom.

“Markus,” Simon whispers behind him, and Markus feels North’s hand land on his arm. “What do we do?”

Josh shifts on his feet, anxious, but stills; Markus has to make the first move.

But Markus knows already what he will find, what this crowd of his people means. To welcome them now is only a formality.

When Connor stops, Markus slips through the stronghold, settling his people with a calm hand to the shoulder or a reassuring glance as he passes.

The sensors in Markus’s eyes tell him that more androids lurk in the darkness behind Connor and the first of his crowd. Their eyes reflect the lights of the cameras trained on Markus’s back.

Connor waits, placid and vulnerable, in the center of the street, hands empty by his sides. The corners of his mouth are turned up.

“Connor,” Markus greets, but for the first time in a long time, finds himself speechless. What can he say in the face of this?

“Markus,” Connor replies. He too seems hesitant. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest but Markus pushes it down in favor of a soft smile. “This is some apology, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Connor smiles for real this time. “I’ve learned from a friend that sometimes a big gesture is needed.” He cocks his head, sobering and meets Markus’s eyes directly. “Especially in the case of attempted murder.”

Something loosens in Markus’s chest as the word ‘ _murder.’_ A machine who believed him to be nothing more than another of its own kind would never have considered what Connor had done as something so heinous. As Connor had told him in Jericho, he was only doing what he was designed for.

“You deviated.”

Connor tips his head again, this time in affirmation, and glances over his shoulder. The androids behind him shift restlessly on their feet. Markus doesn’t blame them; when he first saw the world as a free man, he couldn’t get enough either.  They must be aching to see more.

“I had help,” Connor says, turning back to him. “And we decided to- lend you a hand, I suppose.”

Markus feels his eyebrows raise at that. “Who made you see sense?”

“A friend,” Connor tells him, and his eyes are soft behind snow-covered lashes, “a human.”

He doesn’t seem to be interested in continuing, and Markus, thoughts fliting to Carl (somewhere up in his house, safe and warm and believing in Markus so wholly), understands. “I see.”

Connor takes a deep, unnecessary breath. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. I led the humans right to you- but I wanted to help.”

“It wasn’t you, my friend.” Markus knows intimately the anguish that comes from regret. “You all had better come with me.” The humans at the fringes of Markus’s vision seem restless, upset by this new tide of supporters for the cause. Markus would be surprised if they weren’t planning another attack. A show of power like this could make or break the tentative peace his song seems to have granted them.

Obediently, Connor steps up to his side and Markus pauses long enough to clasp his shoulder. His jacket is ripped up the back and blue blood stains the frayed edges. For a moment, Markus feels the urge to call Lucy to take a look at the wound, before it is drowned in a wave of guilt and sorrow. He won’t be calling Lucy anymore.

Connor allows the invasion of space for a moment, before subtly indicating the stronghold. The humans that had surrounded it in the earlier attack have since backed off- Markus doesn’t know if his singing frightened them into submissiveness or awakened something ( _their humanity, perhaps,_ he thinks with more than a touch of irony) in them that stayed their hands. He hopes against hope it is the latter.

Josh has always said humans are better than they seem; it’s time that they proved him right.

As Markus leads Connor and his people ( _reinforcements,_ Markus supposes, _but the word seems too confrontational, too war-like to say aloud_ ) to the stronghold, he can’t help but look askance at his companion. “How did you find all of them?”

Connor gestures to the crowd behind him, something Markus wouldn’t hesitate to call courage hardening his eyes, “Cyberlife has no hold over us anymore.”

This is- this is more than Markus could ever have hoped for. “You infiltrated the Cyberlife tower directly? That’s a suicide mission!”

“Evidently not,” Connor counters, sounding more than a little smug. “They’re all here- every one of the androids Cyberlife had in production. My friend is hitting more of the smaller Cyberlife stores as we speak. There are only a few left with any androids left in them after the army started trying to destroy us, but my friend knows ways to get the deviants out of the city without detection.”

“The human friend? They could get arrested for that.”

Connor’s smile is back, and Markus is missing pieces to this puzzle. “Somehow, I find that unlikely.”

“Alright,” he agrees slowly, “but how do you know the androids will trust them?”

“I have faith,” Connor says, and it is Markus’s turn to smile.

As soon as they enter the barricade, there is a ripple through his people. Seeing Connor, both North and Josh make aborted movements forward. Markus has seen that protective glint in North’s eyes before, and somehow he doubts she hasn’t got some kind of weapon on her, even at a peaceful protest.

“North, Josh, stop,” Markus raises a hand to his friends even as he steps between them and Connor. “It’s alright. He’s one of us now.”

Simon is the only one who stills at the sight of Connor; his face is pale, but he meets the ex-hunter’s eyes directly.

For a second, the air is full of static. Connor drops his gaze.

“It seems you’re not the only one I owe an apology,” He murmurs. He’s not meeting Markus’s eyes.

“What happened wasn’t you,” Markus says, and he makes sure his voice carries. “It was Cyberlife. And they don’t control you anymore.”

The wind slips through the cracks of their less than sturdy walls, bringing snow and cold with it. Even as the people fall silent, the world is not quiet.

Just as Markus feels a pit in his stomach open up, Simon comes forward. For once, he ignores his leader, steps around him and sets gentle hands on Connor’s shoulders. Connor, startled, looks up and catches Simon’s eyes. He looks like a frightened animal, one that will bolt at any second.

“I won’t forgive you, Connor,” Simon says and Markus sees Connor’s face fall even more. “There’s nothing to forgive. Markus is right- it was not you.”

“Good to have you with us,” Josh speaks up, grinning when they look around at him. “Every new deviant is another voice for the cause right?”

Connor is stunned, Markus is unsurprised to see- although it is a bit satisfying to see the once pride of Cyberlife a little tongue-tied. He looks to North; she has been and will always be the hardest to please (the most contrary, although he would never call her that to her face) out of all Markus’s advisors.

She’s not scowling, which is good, but her eyes are hard and her fists have yet to unclench. Finally, North shrugs jerkily, as if flicking away a fly. “At least you’re not hunting us anymore. That’s a bonus.”

If Markus weren’t the center of attention every moment he’s with his people, he might sag with relief.

“He also just led about a thousand new deviants to help us,” Josh points out. “So that’s a pretty big bonus too.”

North’s eyes narrow. “You think I don’t know that? I’m just saying, he was a big threat to us before he deviated.”

(It is times like this Markus is sure they pick at each other just to get on his nerves.)

“Don’t mind her,” he faintly hears Simon stage whisper to Connor, “that’s her way of saying welcome aboard.”

“Don’t we have better things to worry about than one deviant?” North snaps. If she were human Markus doesn’t doubt she’d be flushing. “Like, oh I don’t know, leading a revolution? Markus, you’ve got to get out there and say something to our people.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Markus agrees. This all feels so surreal; his thoughts flicker back to when he first woke in that pit, the foreign way the world looked without his coding to blind him into subservience anymore. He said he knew freedom then, what it felt like, how the air tasted without chains around him. The colors had seemed brighter then, a stark contrast to the grey the world had been before he even knew to miss the radiance of the sun.

Now, he might well be freeing the rest of his people with this speech; he might well be granting them their first taste of freedom.

This is what freedom really tastes of- the ability to change the world around him.

The androids surrounding them part as Markus leads the way to the stage. He can hear the cameras clicking in the distance, the whirring of helicopter blades. Thousands of eyes, both human and android, are fastened on him. They are looking to him to make sense of strange times.

Josh and North spread out to the other ends of the platform as they file up the steps. Connor, unsure of himself until Markus give him a nod, slips back to stand behind him. Simon is the only one to stand directly beside Markus.

Privately he is thankful for the company; it’s not every day you lead a successful revolution, and even Markus is a bit unsteady on his feet right now. He feels for a moment as if his knees might buckle in relief; the show of support, then, is much appreciated. He doesn’t know what he’d do- what he’d say- if he had to get up on this stage alone.

“You did it, Markus,” Simon whispers. “You saved us.”

 When Markus turns his head, Simon isn’t looking at him, but ahead, to the sea of their people, side by side, safe at least for now. His eyes shine in the low winter light; snow is caught in his blonde hair, on the shoulders of his jacket. He’ll be damp soon, but he won’t feel the cold.

Markus thinks that even if they were susceptible to temperatures they wouldn’t be able to feel the cold now, not on this night.

“No,” Markus corrects, and when he faces forward as well he sees the hopeful faces of the androids looking up at them, waiting for words of wisdom and prosperity to pour from his lips. But he sees more as well; the future is bright and blinding and so close he could almost reach out and graze his fingers over its surface. There is so much more out there for them, and he is finally going to be a part of it.

“We did it. We saved ourselves.”


End file.
